The Seed of Pearls
by the lurker
Summary: Miss Parker receives an unexpected birthday present.


THE PRETENDER  
  
The Seed of Pearls  
  
by [the lurker][1]  


  
The pearls felt cold in his hand. He looked down at them once again, mulling over his possible courses of action. A slight grunt escaped his lips, as he realised that there were no courses,' plural, of action; but rather, there was a singular course he had to see through to its completion. He had given his word, and he knew it must be kept. _Damn why was it all so complicated?_  
  
He glanced down at his desk, and at the old manila envelope there. It was worn and discoloured from the years of waiting. Next to the envelope was a sheet of paper with scribbling on it, and a small blank, but sealed envelope next to that. She had given him the large manila package a few days before her death, and she had told him not to open it unless something happened to her. And something _had_ happened to her, and he had opened it.  
  
It was hard to believe that thirty years had passed. _Thirty years._ This was the final thing left to do. He had carried out the instructions she had scrawled on the sheet of paper, most of which had been immediate all those years ago. This was the one thing that she had asked him to hold onto; it was a matter of tradition; it was a matter of family. _Family._ The word always left a bitter sweet taste in his mouth.  
  
He sighed heavily as his hand closed around the string of pearls. He knew all too well what this would do to the young woman he loved as his own. He knew what it would drudge up. He didn't want to cause her any more pain; she had already experienced far too much of that in her life. However, he had given his word to her mother, and _that_ he would not break.  
  
The corridors of Centre were fairly silent as he glided through them, unnoticed. _Unnoticed save for the watchers_, he thought; those whose very job it was to miss nothing and to report everything. He shivered slightly knowing that this thirty year old errand would not go unobserved. He rounded the final corner near her office and his heart slammed into the wall of his chest as he was stopped short by the tall and imposing man standing before him.  
  
Sydney.....if you're on your way to see my daughter, she isn't in her office.  
  
  
  
  
  
Sydney waited a moment before continuing, Do you know where she is then?  
  
Mr. Parker smiled, She's not coming in today. Sydney frowned at Parker slightly, so he continued, I told her to take the day off. Was the least I could do for her birthday.  
  
I see.  
  
Parker looked down at the envelope in Sydney's hand, and gestured to it, A birthday card? How nice. You want me to take it to her? I'm taking my Angel to dinner later.  
  
Uh, no, thank you. I'd prefer to give it to her myself.  
  
Parker stared into Sydney's eyes, a solid contest of wills being waged between them. The head of Centre could sense that Sydney was holding back; but what? He would not find the bottom of it now, that was certain. After a moment, Parker smiled and inclined his head slightly toward the doctor in acknowledgement; _this time,_ he would give in.  
  
Very well then, doctor.....  
  
Parker walked off down the corridor with Sydney just staring after him.  
  
********************  
  
The Lincoln Towncar made its way through the snow covered roads with the ease of a ship cutting through the waves on the sea. There were not many people out and about on account of the rough weather; exactly what was possessing _her_ to brave the elements, she wasn't sure. She only knew that she had to go to her mother. She stopped for a red light and glanced toward the barren trees lining the road. Their branches were covered with snow and glistened in the cool light of afternoon. She looked up toward the sky, and could see that the storm was building, she would have to step up her pace.  
  
While winter meant desolation and loneliness to many, to her, it was strikingly beautiful in its stark simplicity, and the fresh scent of its air always helped to clear the cobwebs of Centre from her mind. And she definitely needed to be free of the Centre's unwelcomed clutches, especially today.  
  
Her cell phone rang, shaking her from her reverie.  
  
  
  
Hello Miss Parker....  
  
The voice on the other end did not really come as a surprise to her, but she allowed the annoyance she felt to ring in her sharp tone.  
  
Hello, Jarrod. Slumming today?  
  
Not slumming, just wishing.  
  
  
  
Yes. Wishing you a happy birthday. His smile shot across the wireless connection, further agitating her, You didn't forget that it was your birthday today, now did you?'  
  
She sighed, No, Jarrod, I most certainly did not.  
  
A passing car honked loudly at her, as she had not noticed the light was now green.  
  
Are you in your car, Miss Parker?  
  
Duh, brain boy....was it the honking or the sound of the engine that gave it away?  
  
Jarrod laughed into the phone, I'm a little surprised that you're out driving in such unpleasant weather. Taking yourself out for a little birthday lunch?  
  
Where I'm going is none of your business.  
  
Jarrod frowned slightly, You seem.......out of sorts Miss Parker, even for you. Are you all right?  
  
Of course I'm all right, she snapped, Is there something else, Jarrod?  
  
No, I suppose not.  
  
  
  
Parker clicked her cell phone closed, leaving Jarrod to ponder her mood by himself.  
  
****************  
  
Broots pointed toward the graph on the computer screen, It's these peaks here, and here, which have me the most baffled. I mean, given the fact that Jarrod usually operates in a pattern that when analyzed gives us a message, this doesn't make sense. It's like he's roaming nomadically, and he's never done that before. I was hoping that we could feed the parameters into the system and run a sim which could help us project his next move. But then again, I suppose Jarrod would already have figured we'd do that, and that's probably why he's decided to turn into a nomad....  
  
Broots turned to look up at Sydney, who was standing behind his desk chair. It was evident by the look on Syd's face, that he hadn't heard a single word.  
  
Sydney? _Sydney...._  
  
Hmmm? What?  
  
Broots glared at him, You haven't heard a word I've said.  
  
Sydney smiled sweetly at Broots, I'm sorry, you're quite right, I haven't.... Broots continued to glare, so Sydney continued, I haven't and it was rude, and I apologise.  
  
I suppose.....  
  
Sydney stepped a few paces away, still deep in thought. Broots studied the older man for a moment, then walked over to where Sydney was now staring off into space.  
  
Is there something wrong, Sydney?  
  
It's nothing really, Broots.... I just.... Syd's voice drifted off, and he looked down at the floor, his hands finding his pockets.  
  
  
  
Sydney smiled at Broots, I'm just a little--  
  
Sydney's sentence was cut off by the shrill ring of his cell phone. He pulled it out of his pocket.  
  
  
  
Sydney, have you seen Miss Parker today?  
  
No, I haven't, Jarrod, why?  
  
Jarrod's voice sounded worried, I called her to wish her a happy birthday and she sounded......troubled.  
  
Mmmm.....she didn't come in to work today.  
  
When I called her, she was in her car.  
  
In her car? In this weather?  
  
  
  
Do you know where she was going?  
  
She didn't say, but if I had to guess, I'd say to visit her mother.  
  
An awkward silence filled the cell waves, which Jarrod finally broke.  
  
Sydney, you still there?  
  
I'll check on her, Jarrod, thank you.  
  
Jarrod terminated the call, and Sydney slipped his phone back in his pocket.  
  
Broots looked up at Sydney, the question in his eyes apparent, Jarrod's worried about Miss Parker?  
  
Sydney paused, thinking, I'll be back later, Broots.  
  
Before Broots could answer, Sydney was gone.  
  
********************  
  
He pulled the collar of his coat up higher as he made his way across the snow filled cemetery. The wind had picked up within the last hour, and was so strong it was blowing snow off the drifts and into his face. Visibility had been cut down to about ten feet, making driving almost impossible, and walking in it was perfectly dreadful. He hoped she had not been standing outside for long.  
  
As he approached the area of the cemetery which held Catherine Parker's grave, he caught sight of Miss Parker. He dug his hands further down into his pockets as a large gust of wind blew right through the fabric of his coat and straight into his bones. Miss Parker was standing so still, that if he had not known better, he could have taken her for a statue.  
  
He trudged through the remaining snow covered path and came to a stop about a foot or so behind her.  
  
Miss Parker?  
  
She didn't turn to face him, What are you doing here?  
  
I was concerned.  
  
What you mean to say is that Jarrod called you.  
  
Yes he did. _And_ I was concerned. He waited for a moment, then continued, It's freezing out here. Come on, let's go somewhere and have a cup of coffee--  
  
She turned to face him, her eyes ablaze with annoyance, --I don't need _your_ concern. _Or_ Jarrod's.  
  
It was so typical of her to answer his regard with irritation. Sydney just smiled at her with the smile he knew she found most infuriating, and his voice had a gentle lilt to it.  
  
I looked for you at the Centre today, but your father told me he gave you the day off for your birthday. I was going to drop by and see you later, but Jarrod said you were in your car when he called. You shouldn't be driving around in this weather.  
  
Given _your_ driving record Sydney, she snapped, I think it's _you_ who shouldn't be out driving in it.  
  
She regretted the comment as soon as it had flown out of her mouth. Sydney had not reacted to it except for the pained expression which now filled his eyes. She couldn't bear to look into them, so instead she glanced away, and after a moment, back at him.  
  
Look, Sydney, I don't need you nor anyone else to babysit me. It's just a birthday. Besides, my father is coming by later to take me to dinner.  
  
The snow began to fall once again as dusk moved in to overtake them. Sydney shivered in his coat. He looked at her; she had to be just as cold if not more so, but she retained her outward appearance of perfect calm. God, she was so stubborn; just like her mother.  
  
Sydney's voice remained even, It isn't just another birthday, Miss Parker. Today you are the age that your mother was when she died; for most people this kind of thing can evoke misplaced feelings of dread.  
  
Well thank you, Dr. Spock, but I'm _not_ having misplaced feelings of dread. She glared at him, Is this why you were looking for me at the Centre? To give me the misplaced feelings of dread' speech?  
  
No. Actually, I have something for you.  
  
Parker was visibly knocked off balance with that one. A slight smile tugged at her lips.  
  
You're giving me a birthday present?  
  
Not exactly.  
  
Her eyes narrowed with absolute aggravation, Well which is it, Dr. Strangelove, do you have something for me or don't you?  
  
I have something for you, but, it's not from me.  
  
That's just as clear as crap....are you going to give it to me or not?  
  
Sydney reached into his inner coat pocket and removed first the blank envelope, and then the string of pearls. He handed her the envelope first.  
  
A few days before your mother died, she gave me a large manila envelope--  
  
--What? Why didn't you--  
  
He silenced her with a hand, then continued, Your mother was my patient, and my friend; I gave her my word that I would follow the instructions in the envelope to the letter, and I have done exactly that. She asked that you be given these last two things on your 35th birthday.  
  
Parker was too stunned to even rip into the envelope she was holding, and instead spoke quietly to him, What was in it?  
  
Miss Parker, it's cold out here, why don't we--  
  
--_Sydney,_ what was in it?  
  
You remember the items that I gave you thirty years ago?  
  
Yes, a letter, a necklace....some photographs.  
  
Well, that's what was in it, along with the small envelope I just gave you and these...  
  
Sydney gently opened his hand which was clutching the pearls. Parker carefully reached for them, touching them as if they could possibly bite her, but not removing them from his hand.  
  
These were my mother's?  
  
Yes. She used to wear them quite often. Don't you remember?  
  
Parker closed her eyes for a moment as flashes of her mother appeared before her, and yes, she did remember the pearls. She opened her eyes and refocused them upon the man standing before her. Without another word, she ripped into the envelope and began reading.  
  
My dearest Angel,  
  
If you're reading this now, then it's your 35th  
birthday, and I have been gone for many years.  
You have no idea how much I wanted to be there  
when you needed me, how I wanted to see you become  
the woman I know you can be. My little Angel,  
I will never stop loving you. My love for you is  
non-ending and infinite, and I pray that you  
have remembered that over the years.  
  
I wish I could see what you look like, and who  
you have become - in a way, I already know, and  
I am so proud of you. The day I turned 25, your  
father gave me a strand of pearls. They have  
been in his family for generations. As  
I write this, I am putting the pearls in an  
envelope with this note, just in case. Forgive  
me for making you wait ten years longer than I  
had to for them, but if all turns out the way  
I anticipate, I think you will need to receive  
them on your 35th birthday instead.  
  
My eternal love,  
  
Mom  
  
ps - don't be upset with Sydney, he is a close  
and trusted friend, and only doing what I have  
asked of him. He will always be there for you,  
and I promise you, you can trust him above all  
others. Don't ever forget that.  
  
Parker could feel the sting of tears on her cheeks as they spilled from her eyes. She looked up at Sydney, who smiled reassuringly at her, and the ache in her heart threatened to explode. She tried to wipe the tears away, but they wouldn't stop, instead, they came faster and faster. Her emotions careened quickly out of control, painful sobs escaping from her throat. And as always, Sydney stood by her side, ready to be the moral support or the punching bag.  
  
In an impulse of chaotic, terrifying emotion, Parker threw her arms around Sydney's neck. A moment later, she felt his arms fold around her, pulling her into the safety of his embrace. He silently held her while she cried, each of her sobs building upon the previous one, until she was too tired to utter a sound.  
  
Syd felt her shiver against him, and he placed a gentle kiss on her forhead, his voice was soft with tender emotion, We're going to freeze to death if we don't get out of here. He pushed her to arm's length and smiled, Are you going to be all right?  
  
Of course.  
  
Wordlessly, Sydney fastened the strand of pearls around her neck. He smiled and wiped away the last of her remaining tears.  
  
They look just as beautiful on you as they did....  
  
.....on my mother?  
  
His voice was quiet,   
  
Parker looped her hand through Sydney's arm as they began to walk toward their cars.  
  
How well did you know my mother?  
  
It was a simple and straight forward question, and yet he found himself searching for an answer, I....I suppose as well as most and better than some; I'm not sure that anyone really knew her, not even.....Mr. Parker.  
  
You've never talked to me about her.  
  
He remained awkwardly silent, which was not lost on Parker, who stopped walking and stared at him.  
  
  
  
She was my patient, Miss Parker. There isn't much I _can_ tell you.  
  
That's bullshit, Sydney, and you know it.  
  
He looked into the grey eyes searching his, knowing he couldn't answer the question she was really asking.  
  
Come on....it's cold.  
  
He began walking again toward the cars, and for a moment Parker just stood there watching him. There _was_ something: Something important that was being kept from her, she could feel it. In time, she would get to the bottom of it. She always did.  
  
fin  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


   [1]: mailto:thecentre@geneglazer.com



End file.
